To Be a Gentleman
by Loyal Subject
Summary: Not a corner of London was safe while he was at large. There was no evil scheme he wouldn't concoct. No depravity he wouldn't commit. He was none other than a foul stenchus rodentus, commonly known as a sewer rat. One-shot.


_This is a contest entry I did over at dA featuring Ratigan from the Great Mouse Detective. I have nothing else to really say other than I hope you enjoy this story! Please feel free to review or constructively criticize. Enjoy! I have comments at the bottom of the story :3_

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><p><strong>To Be a Gentleman<strong>

He sat comfortably in his lavish chair that resembled a throne. The morning's newspaper was propped up in front of him as the headline read "Big Ben Caper Case Goes Unsolved". A smile was forced to escape him as he read on. It was a triumphant smile; the kind of smile one gives after they have crushed their enemy into the ground, the kind of smile few loved but many feared, the kind of smile only those with purely evil intentions would possess.

Not a corner of London was safe while he was at large. There was no evil scheme he wouldn't concoct. No depravity he wouldn't commit. He was none other than a foul stenchus rodentus, commonly known as a sewer rat.

No, he wasn't a rat. To say so to his face would mean instant death. No, he was a big mouse. Or rather, he was a gentleman. Despite the horrendous crimes he had committed, he was always certain to maintain the gentlemen's quality. He wore extravagant suits, expensive capes, white gloves, and never walked among the public without his top hat. His hair was always combed; his smile always charming especially when there was something he wanted on the line. He was none other than the nefarious Professor Ratigan.

And so, Professor Ratigan was reading on his latest accomplishments, soaking in the glory with every word that bounced off the page. It was quite possibly one of his greatest schemes yet. For, it wasn't easy to organize a robbery occurring in Big Ben. Yet he and he alone managed to accomplish such a feat. His men, being as idiotic as they were, were merely his pawns and all passed out on the floor, with hangovers from the previous night's celebration. Champagne still covered the purple and white checkered floor in addition to the gold that graced the surroundings with absolute beauty. It was a simply marvelous sight where he was the sole victor.

Of course, all marveling must come to an end and today was no exception. While he continued to look at the newspaper, immersing himself in every detail the press had managed to get their hands on; he heard the familiar sound of someone walking towards him. However, this person was walking off balance as though they held a crutch or were injured or, more specifically, as though they were forced to walk on a pegged leg.

"He—hey boss," the professor heard from behind the newspaper. The voice was raspy and quite frankly, annoying. Like a fly, the professor wished more than ever he could just shoo this creature away. Or perhaps feed him to his pet cat that roamed the outside of their barrel. But he was a gentleman and gentlemen do not do such things. Not without good reason, anyway. Still, he absentmindedly reached a hand out towards the shiny gold bell tucked in his coat that could make such things happen just in case. His fingers traced it lightly as though it were some sort of pet just begging for attention or, in this case, just begging to be rung.

"What is it Fidget?" Professor Ratigan questioned, a hint of irritation present in his voice as he forced the newspaper away from his full attention. He was hoping Fidget would take the hint and leave him alone. But Fidget, like all his other henchmen, was an idiot and continued to stand there. He wore a ridiculously worn out barrette with an equally worn out scarf. His wing was crippled and his overall presence suggested that of a complete and utter rat. There was not a trace of gentlemen in this man and, sometimes, Professor Ratigan wondered just _why _he associated himself with such uncivilized creatures. But then, as always, he would quickly remember that the reason was simple: there was no one else who was willing to lead this life of crime and follow his every command.

"We—well you see boss, the th—thing is…" Fidget began and Professor Ratigan immediately knew that something had gone wrong. Yet, he was forced to listen to Fidget's babbling until the bat was able to finally spit it all out. "Basil he—he's on the case now."

"What?" the professor replied, a clear tightness in his voice as he tried desperately to suppress the urge to lash out at the nincompoop standing before him. The newspaper in his hand immediately crinkled, so much so it was hard to tell it had once been a newspaper. Fidget cowered back, as though the crinkled newspaper, or worse Professor Ratigan himself, was about to unleash an unspeakable amount of damage on him. But Professor Ratigan would not give in to such temptation: he would remain a gentleman. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his poor nerves. "Never mind _him_. He won't find a thing linking me to the crime."

And that was the end of that. As soon as Professor Ratigan declared this, Fidget laughed nervously, said his apologies, and tried to make his way out of the professor's presence as quickly as he could.

Even though what Professor Ratigan said was true, that it was impossible for Basil to find any shred of evidence against him, the fact the second-rate detective was now on the case rattled him to the very core. Just the name of Basil sent unpleasant thoughts and feelings throughout his body. He would like nothing more than to wring that little pipsqueak's neck if he had the chance.

But no, Professor Ratigan was a gentleman and gentlemen do not strangle a fellow man. They shoot them. Or, come up with some other elaborate means of death and destruction that keeps their hands physically clean.

The world's greatest criminal mind forced himself out of his lavish throne; gracefully walking passed the drunken mice and Bill the Lizard. His thick tail followed close behind, swaying back and forth with its owner's movements. What the brilliant criminal needed was a means of relaxation from that horrible detective.

So Professor Ratigan walked up to the mantelpiece and took the Voodoo doll perched on top of it. The mouse doll was light brown with a deerstalker and matching Inverness cape. It was the perfect duplicate of Basil and the professor possessed no problem stabbing it mercilessly with pins. While he could not harm the real Basil of Baker Street, harming this one would have to do. A part of him only wished this Voodoo doll possessed real powers and by stabbing this little doll, he was inflicting serious pain upon the man he hated more than anything else. Only this wasn't a working Voodoo doll and therefore, was unable to do any sort of harm to that inferior being who dared to get in his way so many times.

When he had finished tormenting the Basil Voodoo doll, Ratigan moved towards his harp. As though he needed to wash away the un-gentleman-like act he had just committed towards the doll, he began to play. Yet, even the harp could not ease his mind. Basil was still looming his thoughts, refusing to leave. He just always had to go snooping about, attempting to ruin his plans, didn't he? Well, if _he _were king, he'd like to see Basil try and stop him.

The idea of being king sent a thrust of excitement throughout the elegant Ratigan's body and soon he was thinking of what other wonderful things he could do as king while he continued to play his harp. If he were king, he'd be able to do just about anything his heart desired. He would tax the elderly, the infirmed, and little brats simply because he didn't like any of them very much. He would be rich beyond his wildest dreams and he would be able to live in the grand palace. But most of all, he would be able to stay a gentleman for good because there would be no need to live the life of crime. He would be a gentleman and Basil wouldn't be able to have a say in the matter. In fact, with him being king, he could easily eliminate Basil permanently. If only he _were _king.

"But perhaps," the twisted fiend mused to himself "perhaps I _can _become king. Or something close to it."

And so, another one of Ratigan's genius schemes was born.

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><p><em>CommentsRandom facts:_

_Ratigan mentions 'The Big Ben Caper' as one of his triumphs during the song 'World's Greatest Criminal Mind'. _

_-Bill the Lizard from Alice in Wonderland is one of Ratigan's henchmen. Seriously, watch his scene from both movies, it's totally him. _

-_Ratigan actually has a Voodoo doll of Basil as well as a harp_

_The end :D. Hope you enjoyed!_

~LS_  
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